


Slow Hands

by aelynxia



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Creampie, Cunnilingus, F/M, Morning Cuddles, Morning Sex, My First AO3 Post, Post-Coital Cuddling, Sleepy Cuddles, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, i'm literally binge-playing the whole dmc series rn, it's really good, luv u vergil, soft vergil bc i'm soft, third pov reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-15
Updated: 2019-06-15
Packaged: 2020-05-12 09:06:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19226017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aelynxia/pseuds/aelynxia
Summary: There was something special about this early in the morning, when most of the world was still asleep – it made him feel like he was the only one alive, which was somehow a very relaxing thought. No one expected anything from him, no one requiredbeing that Vergilfrom him.Or to put it simply: sleepy morning Vergil is soft, so his love-making is also soft.





	Slow Hands

**Author's Note:**

> Hey there! (*¯︶¯*) Welcome to my AO3 debut ft. my latest obsession. I headcanon Vergil to eventually open up to his s/o and be more gentle with them, so this fic is an exploration of that. I hope you enjoy. o(>ω<)o  
> Shoutout to Niall Horan for title inspiration, because title-ing is literally the hardest thing to do. (ﾉ´ヮ`)ﾉ*: ･ﾟ

Soft morning light made its way through the curtains, falling onto Vergil’s face and stirring him awake. He was a light sleeper and even the tiniest distraction, especially in the morning, oftentimes ended his slumber. He wasn’t complaining though, he liked waking up in the quiet of an early morning and then have the whole day left to be productive.

Opening his eyes, he was met with a mop of hair strewn across the pillow next to his in a way that perfectly revealed her slender neck. Her back was pressed against his chest, her arms and legs curled together. She looked so peaceful yet so vulnerable like this. A weak, naïve human she was – sleeping next to him all defenceless like this and letting herself be embraced by his arms.

He shifted a little, suddenly all too aware of how carefully his arms were wrapped around her middle, his palm gently pressed against her stomach, the curtesy of his body unconsciously moving around in his sleep.

Those hands, stained with blood; the hands that knew nothing but a harsh grip around the handle of his sword, the pain of his nails digging into his palms from clenching his fists too hard, and the feeling of pressing down on someone’s neck until it snaps.

He jolted away from her, suddenly repulsed by the idea of his sullied hands touching something as pure as her, almost afraid he’ll ruin her, stain her forever. It was too late when he realized that his abrupt movement would probably wake her up. He could already hear her shifting beside him, groaning quietly at the harsh wake up call.

She stretched her arms as she rolled onto her back, blinking at him with sleep-heavy eyes.

“Don’t go,” she mumbled.

Vergil’s body had gone completely still as soon as she started to move around.

“I did not mean to wake you.” _I’m sorry._

She snuggled into his side, her legs tangling with his.

“Don’t go,” she repeated, quieter this time, already dozing off to sleep again.

“I won’t,” he assured her, not certain if she heard him or not.

Her breaths slowed down and he watched her for a bit before reaching over and brushing a strand of hair out of her face.

There was something special about this early in the morning, when most of the world was still asleep – it made him feel like he was the only one alive, which was somehow a very relaxing thought. No one expected anything from him, no one required _being that Vergil_ from him (whatever that meant). It brought an overwhelming sense of calmness upon him. And in the stillness of their dimly-lit bedroom, her slow breaths the only sound disrupting the silence, it almost felt like the time stopped, trapped them in their own little bubble. The place felt soft and sacred.

He was aware of the fact that he never went easy on her when they made love. He could tell from her sharp gasps and pants as he ground into her with harsh, deep thrusts; from her shuddering form that he often held down, his fingers digging into her soft flesh until he left marks, which he admired the next morning; from her own fingers scratching down his back or gripping the sheets as she moaned his name, again and again, repeating it like a prayer. But no matter how rough he was with her, she never shied away from his touch and always told him she loved him after they were done.

 _Love._ It was still such a foreign concept to him. Be in love and be loved. If other people’s words were anything to go by, he was currently caught up in both. He still found it hard to express himself and he hoped she understood how much she meant to him nonetheless.

The place felt soft and sacred.

She was just a fragile human girl and yet he ended up caring for her more than he had ever intended. What was so special about her anyways? Maybe how she somehow understood him perfectly despite their differences; how she held her head high no matter the obstacle the world threw at her (him included) and how passionate she was about things she liked – some of which happened to be the things _he_ liked as well. There was power burning inside of her, not the kind of power _he_ sought, but power just as much.

She was special and the place felt safe enough for him to let his guard down a little.

He caressed her cheek with his thumb, the pressure of his touch barely there. Her skin was soft. Warm. Tempting him to touch her more.

His thumb slid down onto her chin, similarly to how he did it when he wanted to kiss her. He did want to kiss her. After a moment of hesitation, he leaned in and planted a gentle kiss on her cheek.

That caused her to shift a bit. She let out a small noise and then blinked awake, her gaze locking with his immediately.

“Vergil?”

It sounded like a question, but he didn’t know what she was asking for.

“Trying to wake me up with a kiss I see,” she hummed, a small smile appearing on her lips.

She was still blinking the sleep out of her eyes, her hair a mess, and there was an imprint of creases from her pillow on her cheek.

“You were a beauty sleeping, I had to give it a try.” He had clearly been spending too much time with his brother.

Her groan ended up in a laugh, “You’re awfully romantic for this godforsaken hour.”

An amused smile flashed across his face, “Good morning to you too.”

“Yeah, yeah, good morning,” she yawned as she considered curling into a ball again and sleep some more.

The birds outside were singing. That was the only sound. They were alone in their own little bubble.

Vergil’s hand dropped down to her clothed shoulder and traced a straight line down her arm. The fabric of her pyjamas eventually ended, resulting in rough pads of his fingers now brushing her skin with no obstructions. He could feel the goosebumps appearing on her in the wake of his touch.

She pressed herself closer to him, her hand dipping under the blanket in search of his other hand, which was squished between their bodies, and when found, she entwined her fingers with his.

“May I ask what are you trying to do here?” she asked.

It was not that she disliked his current actions – it was actually quite the opposite – but she wasn’t used to him being so … gentle.

“Patience, my dear,” he hummed.

Pushing lightly at her shoulder, he urged her to roll onto her back while he shifted onto his side, staying close to her, but having gained better access. His hand roamed over her chest, feeling the roundness of her breasts, then slowly made its way down over her stomach, where it lingered for a bit, before slipping to the side and settling on her hipbone, which felt like the only familiar place – a place where he gripped her tight as he pinned her down, often leaving bruises.

Her back arched gently as it usually did under his ministrations, but the soft huffs of breath that escaped her lips were much different than her usual moans and cries. Although not being such an ego-boost to his dominant nature, her sensual pants revealed a completely different side in him, a side he didn’t know he possessed. There was something just as arousing in how eagerly her body responded to even the lightest of his touches and the noises she made were something only for him to hear.

He pressed his lips against her temple and dragged his hand back up her body, the fabric of her pyjamas riding up along with it. He stopped on her chest – a momentary pause as if he was contemplating his next move – and then slipped under the bunched-up hem of her pyjama top, cupping her left breast.

She gasped softly and squeezed his other hand. The palm touching her was pleasantly warm, but his actions were unusual. Unusual, but amazing.

Redirecting his gaze to her face, he took in her expression: mouth agape, eyes lidded, her stare distant, watching his hand now lightly kneading her breast. It took him by surprise that one could get such pleasure from gentle touches only. He never gave such intimacy much of a thought, always acting out on blind lust instead. But what was even more surprising to him was that … he enjoyed going slow like that, discovering the variety of new reactions depending on where and how he touched her.

Outside, the birds were singing. Inside their bedroom walls, safe haven. Time passed differently here. Slower.

She looked up, their gazes locking. Vergil didn’t stop his actions, rather focusing more on playing with her hardening nipple. Biting her lower lip, she brought her other hand up and cupped his cheek, her thumb caressing his cheekbone. He didn’t shy away.

“I love you,” she stated calmly.

Not replying, Vergil held her gaze, his expression neutral, but the crinkles around his eyes softened. He never knew how to respond to these kinds of proclamations of affection, at least not with words. So instead he dipped his head down and pressed his lips to hers, ignoring the taste and morning stickiness of her mouth as well as her protests and warnings about the said things.

He hoped she understood. This was his reply. He hoped she understood just how much she meant to him.

Breaking away from her lips fairly quickly, he continued the path of lingering kisses down her chin and to her neck. He let his teeth graze the soft skin, but nothing strong enough to leave marks. Her breath hitched in expectation of his usual bites, but when she was met with the feeling of his chapped lips and teeth dragging down her exposed neck only teasing, the thrilling sensation made her shudder in delight.

When he reached the very end of her neck, his assault was stopped by her pyjamas, still pushed up to expose her chest. It seemed like he was hesitating a little before pulling back and then immediately grabbing the fabric and pulling it over her head and off.

He adjusted his position a little, lying further down on the bed instead of being beside her, the blanket slipping off their bodies in the process. He placed both of his hands on her ribcage, just below her breasts. His hands were surprisingly warm and big, their light but steady weight comforting.

Before he could proceed however, her hand caught his wrist. His head snapped up, giving her a wide-eyed look. It seemed like she shrunk back a little at that, suddenly not being sure if this was a good idea after all as he usually took on the unquestionable role of leading _everything_ when they were intimate with each other. But right now … he was so gentle and loving. At least compared to how he usually was. She had to try.

She pointed at him, his torso, “You too. Off.”

Vergil didn’t react immediately, like he was contemplating what he should do. It wasn’t in his nature to take orders from anyone, and yet … there was something about her right then and there, in their little haven, their shared bed, comfortable and safe.

He straightened up and hooked his fingers underneath the hem of his pyjama top, quickly pulling it over his head. She was in for a quick show of how his abdominal muscles flexed as he wriggled out of his clothing. Next second and the discarded fabric was laying forgotten on the floor and he was all over her again, hands tracing over the bumps and edges of her body, like he wanted to feel and memorize everything, make up for the lost time of not knowing. Yet he was still moving slowly, calmly.

Her body shuddered under his curious touches, her back arching when he pressed a gentle kiss in the valley between her breasts. He slowly made his way over her stomach, finally meeting the waistband of her pyjama bottoms. There’s been a lot of shifting and squeezing legs together on her part the closer he got to it, her little whimpers practically begging him to continue.

He pulled her bottoms down quite unceremoniously. A moment and then they were off, no teasing glances, no lingering touches. Her panties followed suit and just like that she was lying all exposed before him. It was always in such moments that a surge of modesty coursed through her, making her close her legs in a futile attempt to cover herself up a little. Vergil’s hands were quick on her knees though, pushing them apart again and revealing her dripping core.

His hands slid down her thighs, a part of her he was more familiar with, and stopped on her hipbones. A moment passed. She was wondering if he would do it. Him eating her out was a rare occasion, but oh dear was he a god at doing it.

First was his right hand, moving over to her heat. Using only one finger, he slid it through her wet folds and she couldn’t help herself but moan at his action. Gentle touches continued as he repeated the motion, slowly – up and down and up again, wet noises accompanying his work. Finally, he settled on her clit, giving it a few rubs with his thumb.

A satisfied groan escaped through her lips. She was already falling apart underneath him and he barely even started. The slowness and gentleness of his touches was working her up way more than his usual rough love-making. She bucked her hips into his hand, wordlessly begging him for more. It was no surprise when he immediately pulled away. He might have been gentle, but he was still the one in charge and if he wanted to go slowly, they will go _slowly._

However, his next action came as a bit of a surprise as he dipped his head down, going straight for her core. His tongue delved into her folds, right where her entrance was, then licked up until reaching and sucking on her sensitive nub. Her gasp was caught in her throat as the pleasure erupted and surged through her body. He held her down by her hips as he continued his ministrations, preventing her from moving too much, however his grip only getting stronger when it was necessary.

After several slow circles around and over her aching clit, her squirming and panting a constant indicator of how good he was making her feel, he decided the matter was sufficiently taken care of for now. Moving on, he flattened his tongue and dragged it down again, this time properly teasing her entrance by applying pressure to it, but not yet going in.

For actual penetration, he used his finger, one at first, slowly pushing in and gently spreading her apart. She was particularly sensitive this morning and her reaction to the intrusion was immediate. Arching her back, she let the moans spill freely from her mouth while her hand reached down and burrowed itself into his hair.

The sensation of her hand lightly pulling on his hair made him stop for a second, but since it wasn’t a bad feeling, Vergil decided to just leave it and let her do it while he went down on her with renewed vigour, sucking on her clit in time with two of his fingers pumping in and out of her. She was a writhing mess in a couple of seconds. He was so precise in his movements, so good even though he maintained a rather leisurely pace. She was well on her way towards her first orgasm, but he pulled away all too quickly. She practically growled at him in protest.

“Don’t worry.” His voice was low. “I will get you there.”

He moved back a little, quickly getting rid of his pyjama bottoms and underwear, all in one swoop. She didn’t even have the time to marvel at his naked form as he was on top of her the second his clothes left his body.

In the early morning light, their bedroom was the place to be all alone, alone together.

Supporting himself with one hand, he used the other to guide himself to her core. There was a slight urgency to his actions, a first this morning. He pressed his tip against her opening and, without wasting any more time, started to slowly push in, watching the head disappear as it sank deeper into her.

She gasped and gripped the sheets, the intrusion as overwhelming as usual. No matter how many times she took him, his size was always a challenge to get used to. This time however, he was gentle with her, pushing in rather slowly and even pausing for a moment or two every so often, letting her adjust. Her heart swelled with love at how careful he was with her.

His other hand came down onto the mattress as he bottomed out, trapping her between his body and the bed. His scent filled her senses, his warmth enveloped her. There was a strong sense of safety from how he was practically shielding her with his body. There was nothing to worry about however, no lingering thoughts necessary, only _him_ to focus on. And then he started to move.

In time with his initial thrust, he buried his face into her neck, nipping lightly at the skin there. She cried out his name from the immense pleasure she got from his deep, precise thrusts, the slow drag of his length in and out of her simply delicious. She wrapped her arms around him and he dropped down onto his elbows so she could hold him close as he left small kisses on her neck and on her cheeks. The pace he set was slow, but combined with his insatiable hands exploring her body yet again and his soft lips lavishing her skin with little signs of affection – it felt divine.

“You feel so good,” he groaned.

A compliment. Not a commodity she was used to with him. The moment felt special and it made her insides tingle with warmth.

She managed to plant a kiss on his forehead, despite his hair getting in the way. Her hand caressed his back, his shoulders, his upper arms, marvelling at the feeling of impressive muscles working underneath his skin.

None of them had the patience to last long. It was morning and Vergil left them waiting with his slow hands long enough already. He was getting close and from the way her grip tightened, he knew she was as well. He picked up his pace a little – still a far cry from his usual, but enough to provide some extra stimulation to tip them over quicker. His hand squeezed itself between their bodies as well, going for her clit.

Crying out softly, she bucked her hips into him: _more_. This was just what she needed – that last bit of stimulation to make her fall. A couple of more thrusts, aimed perfectly at her sweet spot, and a few hard rubs of her clit sent her flying over the edge, stars in her vision, wildfire in her limbs. She clenched down hard on him as she moaned his name, over and over, her entire being swelling with love for this man who was, despite everything, capable of love-making so sweet and soft as this.

Somewhere along the way, Vergil reached his high too, several more thrusts to end it all, and then he stilled, buried deep inside of her, marking her insides with his essence. A few grunts slipped out of his mouth at the sheer intensity of his climax, something he thought was only possible to achieve with brute force and roughness.

They stayed in such position until they caught their breaths – until the overwhelming sensation of pleasure faded out, replaced by a warm feeling of a newly-forged connection.

He slowly pulled out and rolled down to the side, his arm snaking around her middle and pulling her closer almost immediately.

Clenching at the sudden feeling of emptiness, she could feel his seed leaking out of her. It was the only mark he left on her today, no bites, no bruises, only claiming her as his in such an unmistakable way.

She snuggled into his bare chest.

“I love you,” she mumbled against his skin.

His thumb caressing her lower back in an up and down motion was the only thing moving.

When she angled her head a bit, she could hear the sound of his calm, steady heartbeat; it almost made her sleepy again.

The weight of his arm around her waist was comforting, protective.

His warmth familiar, safe.

She half heard his voice, half felt the vibration in his chest, “You, too.”

Right now, this was the closest he could get; and right now, this was enough.

A faint sound of cars crept into their bedroom – a sound of people, a sound of a new day. The illusion around them shattered. Time passed normally again.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, I hope you liked it. Kudos and comments are greatly appreciated. (っ˘ω˘ς )


End file.
